Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Granny kept an eye on him the whole time, and then, as if she knew what he needed, walked over to him and said, “Go.”
“Got nowhere to go.” And he didn’t, not really, only he felt like he did. He didn’t get it, how he could be in this room full of people he loved so damn much and still feel alone, but being around Grady, whom he’d known for barely a month, somehow wiped that emptiness away.
“You know better than to try and lie to me. Make a plate and get out of here. It’s okay not to be okay, Deke. One of these days, you’ll learn that.”
Christ, he loved this woman, didn’t know what he would do without her.
Everyone was talking while Deacon slipped into the kitchen. He put together a plate with ham, turkey, potatoes, and all the fixins, then another with two pieces of pie, and covered them both with foil. He made excuses as to why he was leaving early, but they didn’t give him hell as much as he’d thought they would. Because they know by now. It’s been three years, and they’re used to me sneaking away and being alone.
Only this time was different. He didn’t plan to be alone tonight. He was going to be with his new friend, the friend who somehow eased something inside him.
It didn’t take him long to drive to the small house Grady had rented. His stomach was in knots, and suddenly he was wondering if this was strange, and what if Grady wasn’t there? He could see Roe inviting him over. Maybe Deacon was thinking about Grady, but the other man wasn’t concerned with him at all.
And why was Deacon feeling that so much?
Why did it matter?
He didn’t have the answer to that.
The living-room light was on when Deacon pulled up. Nerves pricked at him in a way that didn’t make a damn bit of sense.
He grabbed the plates and got out of the car. When he knocked, a muffled “Just a sec,” came from inside. It was about six, so not late, but Grady sounded sleepy. Hell, maybe he’d just wanted to spend the day relaxing, and now Deacon was there interrupting him.
He opened the door wearing a pair of sweats and no shirt. He had a light dusting of hair on his chest and muscular abs, but not overly so. There was a slight layer of… Deacon wouldn’t call it fat; Grady just looked like a normal man instead of one who spent hours working out every day, and…why in the fuck was he noticing that?
“Hey. I, um, didn’t expect to see you today.” Grady rubbed a hand over his torso, then crossed his arms. “Are you okay? Shit. Come in. Didn’t mean to leave you standing there.”
Deacon cleared his throat when it didn’t need it and stepped inside. He was close to Grady when he did and noticed the scent of whiskey, cinnamon, and soap. “I brought you dinner.” The second he said it, he wished he hadn’t come at all. That he hadn’t moped around all day, obsessing about this man for reasons he couldn’t understand. “I should go. Don’t want to interrupt your night.”
“Me and Jack Daniel’s? We go a long way back. He understands.” Grady winked, then smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah…yeah, I am too.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Grady gave him another grin. The tangles in Deacon’s belly loosened, and he felt…light, free.
“Those for me?” Grady pointed to the plates.
“One of them is. The other is our dessert.”
“We should get to it, then. I’m starving.” He grabbed one of the plates, and they headed to the kitchen. Grady got silverware. “I’m drinking whiskey. That good with you, or you want something different?”
“Good with me.” He wasn’t a huge drinker, but damned if that wasn’t what he needed tonight.
Grady got a glass next, then nodded toward the living room. The TV wasn’t on, but there was a bottle on the coffee table he’d clearly recently cracked into.
They sat on the couch, both toward the center. It made sense, considering the table was small, so they were both next to it. Deacon uncovered the plates while Grady poured them both some whiskey.
“Goddamn, this looks good,” Grady said, handing a fork over. “Share with me.”
“This is for you.”
He shrugged. “And I want to share it with you.”
Did he know Deacon hadn’t eaten his fill of his own dinner? No way. It was impossible for him to have known that, but somehow it felt like he did. “Okay.” But first, Deacon picked up his whiskey and held it out for Grady. “To…friendships, good food, and…”
“Ice cream?” Grady finished.
“Well, always that.” Deacon chuckled, but for some reason he needed to say more. “Learning to move forward.”
Grady’s hazel gaze was deep and intense as he gave a slow nod, and then they clinked their glasses and took a drink.